And Then They Fled Into The Storm
by Isola
Summary: Riddick stumbles upon a familiar face many years after the Hunter Gratzner incident. English not my first language, so please bear with my grammatical mistakes :)
1. Default Chapter

Prologue 

He looked up from the consoles, and there she stood, the lights from the skiff brutally highlighting the terror, desperation and sheer exhaustion in her face. He considered her for a moment, that tiny wisp of a woman with equal measures of weakness and strength fighting for power within her. He would use the word "paradox" if he knew such a word existed. As it was, he could only acknowledge the amusement and annoyance he felt seeing her standing there, so unexpected. He had thought she was already dead. He _had_ left them to die in that cave.

            He watched her run towards the back of the skiff, for the hatch, obviously expecting him to open it for her. Such blind trust. _Silly girl, Carolyn_. He thought about just taking off, not wasting any more time on her or this godforsaken piece of shit rock, but reconsidered. He didn't know why, maybe because of curiosity, maybe just for the hell of it. After all, fucking with her head before had been fun. And the girl had spunk, no doubt about it.

            "Strong survival instinct. I _admire_ that in a woman." He towered over her, looked down at her from the skiff. She stood in the mud below, drenched in water and sweat and shit, still attempting to keep her head high.

            "I promised them we would go back with more light."

            "Oh, did you, hmm?" He smiled, to her, to himself. He was having fun.

            "What, are you afraid?" she spat, gathering enough strength to attempt to mock him.

            He laughed then, and even he recognised the slight tone of insanity that was held within that laugh. "Me, afraid?" Just as quickly as his expression of mirth had appeared, it disappeared again and was replaced by his usual, empty face.

            "Come on, Riddick. There must be some part of you that want to rejoin the human race."

            He crouched down, slowly, gracefully, heavy arms crossed over a heavy chest. "Truthfully I wouldn't know how." He _was_ telling the truth. He was never anything if not honest – and he did recognise his own fucked-up ethics. Didn't mean anything – ultimately he would always look to himself first. Any charity acts in the meantime was because he could afford to – and because it amused him.

            "Well, then give me some light for them and I go back on my own".

            "Sure", he said, picked up the hand light he'd deliberately broken minutes before, and threw down to her. "There you go".

            She looked at the light where it lay at her feet, and then looked at him. Her face crumpled, she was tired and lonely and oh so scared. "_Please_, just come back with me!"

            "I got a better idea, Carolyn. You come with _me._ Save yourself. Those people are already dead."

            The look she gave him was that of a wounded animal. She shivered violently; loosing what little strength she had quickly. He really was enjoying himself, gauging how far he could push her before she snapped.

            With a strangely dead voice she said, "You're fucking with me. I know you are."

            "Oh, you know I are? I _will_ leave you here. Step inside.  No one's gonna blame you, Carolyn." He reached his hand out towards her, beckoning for her to come.

            Her resolve left her, and she fell down on her knees in the mud, sobbing like a child, repeating over and over again "I can't. I can't". 

He walked down the gangway towards her, grabbed her around the hips and heaved her up.

            "Sure you can. Here, I make it easier on you."

            And she was walking ahead of him, unsteadily climbing the gangway. He thought he had her. Fuck knows what he'd do with her later on, but he was sure she would become useful one way or another – hostage, hooker, whatever. 

            One of the monsters sang out into the night, that demented whale song sounding a little bit too close for comfort. He turned around on the ramp, used his enhanced eyes to penetrate the darkness. And in that split second, Carolyn must have gathered her very last resource of primal strength, because the next thing he knew he was on his back in the mud with her straddling him, spittle and desperate anger showering his face when she screamed:

            "_I_ am the captain of this ship! And I am not leaving _anyone_ behind to die! Do you hear me?"

            It was, of course, a simple matter to change to situation around, for him to be on top of her in the rain, holding the shiv against her jugular, debating whether to kill her or not. She looked up at him, very much like a rabbit caught in the headlight, knowing damn well that she might die, but beyond any feelings of fear.

            "Get that thing off my neck!"

            "Shut up!" he screamed into her face. Then: "Would you die for them?" he growled, feeling vaguely curious.

            "I would try for them!" She spat rainwater out of her mouth, vainly trying to release herself.

            "You didn't answer me!" he shouted, pressing the shiv closer to her throat, possibly drawing some blood. "Would you _die_ for them?"

            She looked up at him then; her eyes clear for the first time since he first saw her, total abandonment in her face.

            "Yes I would, Riddick. I would die for them."

            He smiled then, and made a decision that could possibly mean his own death – just for the sheer hell of it.

            "Interesting…"

                        ************************************************

And now he was crawling crab style up the muddy slope, one of the fucking monsters slowly following him, its tail whipping back and forth. _Like a cat before it strikes_, he thought. He growled at it, showing his teeth, letting that huge primitive side of him take over completely. If he could get out of this alive, good. And if not, he intended to take as many of these creatures with him as possible. He'd sent the others before him; they were very much on their own now. As far as he was concerned, they were lost – he couldn't see how they would survive this hell. A kid, a holy man and Carolyn – the odds were not very good. Not that he cared.

            The creature in front of him suddenly took off, probably to go have a nibble of one of its own. Riddick stood and turned, raced down into the settlement, idly wondering if the others had reached the skiff, and if they would take off without him. He would if he was them. 

            A creature landed in the alley in front of him, interrupting his train of thoughts. As far as he could tell it hadn't yet spotted him, but it was a matter of seconds. Without hesitation he stepped right up in front of it, gracefully mirroring its movements. That blind spot that he'd clocked in the canyon – perhaps he could use it long enough to be able to gut the thing. A noise behind him made him turn his head far a fraction of a second. It was enough to see what was behind him.

            Fucked. He was fucked. The creature that landed behind him had most definitely sensed him, and was already on its way. Which one to face? He smiled to himself, relaxing his stance and rolling his shoulders. It was a relief to abandon himself completely to the feral, animal side. Now nothing mattered but blood – not even his own death.

Next thing he knew he was falling through the air, hitting a couple of oil drums on the way and then landing in the mud. He'd fallen from the claws of one of the creatures, and he was bleeding from multiple wounds, but was feeling no pain. He was like a fucking neon lit dinner invitation with all that blood, he knew that, and he struggled to get on his feet and move one. Adrenalin and rage and brutality surged through him, and he got on his knees. And then Carolyn was there, emerged out of the darkness like a fucked-up would-be saving angel.

            _You stupid, stupid girl._

She got her arms around him, attempted to carry his weight and get him out of there. He clung to her, saving his own strength as much as he could. 

            "Come on, Riddick. Move!" she shouted at him, desperation and determination painting an ugly picture of her face. "Goddamn it, move!" she shouted again, when his weight got too much for her and she nearly fell. "I said I would die for them, not for you. Come on".

            That pretty much sealed her fate. He probably would have done it anyway, to provide the predators with a larger source of blood than his, but those words really fucking killed her. His shiv buried itself in her back, forth lumbar down, and the smell of her blood immediately filled his nostrils. _So sweet…. _They stood together, clutching each other like lovers in the rain.She looked up at him, straight into his eyes, but he'd never understood this "mirrors to the soul" shit, so he didn't know what she was thinking in those last seconds of her life. He didn't even know if she realised it was him that killed her. And then she was gone, ripped from his arms by one of the predators, and he fell on his knees. 

            "Not for me? Not for me?" he shouted after her disappearing body. He didn't know why those words had triggered her death – maybe a feeling of long lost abandonment had come back to haunt him. Or maybe not. It didn't matter. As he gathered himself enough to get to his feet and find his way back to the skiff he smiled a manic smile out into the darkness.

            _But you did die for me, Carolyn._

**Chapter 1. **

Someone was following him. There was no concrete evidence, no footsteps in the night or rustling of clothing. But he was sure of it. His finely hones instincts never failed him. And if someone was following him, it must be with harmful intent. Thinking anything else would have killed him long ago. Always treat the unknown as your enemy. Always kill before you get killed yourself. Questions? Fuck that.

            So he quietly slipped around the next corner, into a dark alley, his back to the damp wall. His shiv drawn, pointing downwards and kept close to his thigh, he waited.

            It didn't take long. Whoever followed him wasn't very good. Or inexperienced. Maybe both. Soon careful footsteps approached. And soon after that the owner materialised.

            Interesting.

            It was a girl. Or a woman. Hard to tell, with that tiny figure. His first thought was hooker, maybe because of her wild hair. He quickly retracted that thought, though. Leather trousers, boots, tunic – not the clothing of a whore.

            The woman stopped and looked around her, listening intently to the sounds of the night. Looking for him? Maybe. But the naivety! To stand there in open view, practically begging to be killed, if not by him, then by the hand of anyone else existing in this permanently dark scum world. Definitely no merc or cop.

She stepped closer towards him, and he caught her scent. _Familiar. _He watched her with renewed interest, his nostrils flared, his eyes probing the darkness for details of her face. Keen. If it was someone he'd encountered in the past then she was obviously after him, and therefore a threat. His hand tightened around the shiv, and his body tensed, as he readied himself to strike as soon as she got close enough

The girl looked around her, obviously wondered where he'd gone. So foolish – he'd almost be surprised if she made it to where he stood hidden before someone else ghosted her. 

_Now_. She was almost on level with him at the mouth of the alley, and he moved quickly, oh so quickly.

She must have heard him. Or sensed him, because fuck knows that he was real quiet. Just as his arm with the shiv swept out for the kill, she turned and looked at him, and he could almost swear that she saw every detail of his face through the dark. And something with her eyes, _in_ her eyes, together with that familiar scent kicked hard at something in his brain and instead of burying the shiv deep into her neck he turned it at the last second and used the handle to knock her so hard in the temple that she soundlessly fell down on the wet ground, and lay there in a quiet, pathetic heap. He stood looking down on her, tapping the shiv against his thigh, and then swiftly reached down and picked her up, threw her roughly over his shoulder and moved away into the darkness. He needed to find out who she was, but not here. Not that anyone on this planet would look twice at someone assaulting a girl, but he sensed that he'd need privacy for this one. This felt… crucial….

He had her trussed up on his bed, hands tied over her head to the bedframe, her feet held together with an old leather belt. The room was dark – it didn't matter to him and it would serve to intimidate the girl when she woke up. He'd had some time to study her face – framed by that curly, wild hair, her face was narrow and angular, slanted eyes, mouth a bit too wide. Fine lines around her eyes and mouth. With his altered eyes it was impossible to make out her exact colourings.

And then there was the scar. Running from her left ear, across her cheek to the left corner of her mouth. Ugly and uneven, either badly stitched together or not stitched at all. Even without the scar her looks was peculiar; with it her face was quite unforgettable. No beauty, but her face would always stick in the mind.

It was hard to judge her age. While patting her unconscious body down for weapons and clues – and finding nothing – he'd felt curves underneath her leather clothing. So no young girl, despite her slight frame. He guessed her to be between twenty and thirty years old, and that was as close as he could get. 

He settled back onto a chair and watched her, shiv in hand. Her scent mingled in his nostrils – annoyingly familiar and still fucking elusive. It made him angry, he detested not being in full control. Not being in control meant danger, meant possible death. He'd packed his few belongings – as soon as he was finished with the girl he would leave this planet. He was already in the furthest, scummiest backwaters of the galaxy, but he was sure he could delve even further. People like him always could. 

He saw the girl stir on the bed, and sat up straight, waiting for her to gain full consciousness. As soon as he got what he wanted from her he'd kill her and be on his way. Normally he would have ghosted her straight away, but he needed to know what she meant for him, what dangers surrounded her and if more people needed to be eliminated before he could move on. She might be in company with someone else; she might possess knowledge that could be useful for him on his never-ending run from authorities and mercs.

            He could see her eyes slowly open. She would not be able to see him where he sat in the shadows with his mercurial eyes hidden behind the goggles, so he leaned forward, quietly, and watched her. She looked around the room, grimacing from the pain that her head must cause her. She tried her restraints, found them holding her down firmly and didn't waste any more effort on them. She scanned the darkness of the room again.

            "Riddick?"

            He stiffened. So she knew who he was – who he really was. Not one of his many aliases and identities – she knew his real one. He ought to kill her straight away. He tightened his grip on the shiv and stood up.

            She must have heard his movement, because she turned her eyes to where he stood in the room. Her hearing seemed to be unusually strong, he reflected, remembering how she'd heard him in the alley, even though he'd been his quickest, deadliest self.

            "Riddick? Are you there?"

            Her voice was low and even, without special characteristics. There was nothing familiar with her voice. But her eyes… and her scent. He _knew_ that scent… He stepped up to the bed and took his goggles off. His shined eyes did not frighten her. She looked up at him, head slightly tilted to one side, her eyes squinting. 

            "What? You too scared to show me anything more than your eyes? Big bad Richard B. Riddick scared of a tied down girl? Cute…."

            He leaned down over her, put his shiv to her throat and asked:

            "Who are you?"

            She looked up at him, must see his face now when her eyes was getting used to the darkness.

            "You don't recognise me? Well, I don't suppose you should. It's been many years. And I've changed….".

            "Recognise you from where?" he asked, pressing the shiv deeper into the skin of her throat, caressing her jugular.

            "Remember the _Hunter Gratzner_?" she asked, looking intently into his face, laying absolutely still.

            He froze for a brief moment. _The Hunter Gratzner_. That shit ghost ship, so many years ago. He did remember it vividly, whenever he chose to look at the memories. Johns, that corrupted son of a bitch, the desert planet, the killer creatures, the flight. Sometimes he even recalled Carolyn, the woman he killed there. He looked down at the girl on the bed. 

            "I'm only gonna ask this one more time. _Who are you_?"

            The girl spat at him – it was obvious that whatever she lacked in skill she made up for in courage – stupid or not.

            "I'm Jack!" she hissed at him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2.**

So… Jack. The scrawny boy who turned out to be a scrawny girl. As he recalled, he was the one who made her, outed her to those desperate and scared people. Hell, he'd even saved her life for kicks, to see if he could measure up to one of those creatures. Jack, the smart mouthed runaway who idolized him and wanted to be like him, and then got more and more broken down by the deaths of her companions. She'd even cried for that motherfucker Johns. He'd dumped her and the holy man on the first planet they hit, and gone on his way to lick his wounds. Hadn't seen them since. Hadn't thought of them since.

                And now, here she was. How interesting…. He didn't release the pressure of his shiv on her throat. He increased it.

                "So how come you were following me?" he growled.

                "I dunno. Saw you down the docks and recognized you. Decided to follow you, see what you were doing. Spur of the moment thing, I guess". The little bitch actually tried to shrug, despite the shiv and the restraints.

                "Think you'll have to do a bit better than that, Jackie girl", he suggested.

                "It's true!"

                "Ha ha."

                She squirmed, looking uncomfortable and furious. Still not scared. "Fuck you, Riddick. I'm telling you the truth. What more can I do? Get that fucking plaything of my throat!"

                "Fine", he said. "Let's leave the particulars of that point for now. You alone?"

                "Yes."

                "You sure? You sure there's no merc sitting around somewhere wondering where his little protégé's gone?"

                She spat at him again, hissing. "I. Am. Alone. What part don't you understand?"

                "The untrue part?"

                "Go fuck yourself."

                "Jackie girl, you considered the thought that I might kill you? That was the plan when I spotted you. Still is."

                She stilled, and looked up at him, completely calm, not even angry any more. "Did _you_ consider the thought that I wouldn't care, Riddick?"

                He took a moment to consider her. The _Hunter Gratzner_ crash had been, what, about twelve years ago? That would make her around twenty five, give or take. And he didn't think she'd spent much of her time in cryo. The lines on her face, along with her eyes, told him that. Her eyes were much older then the rest of her, even he could see that, and her eyes were very tired. Most likely little Jack hadn't had a very rosy life. She told the truth. She didn't care if he killed her. And neither did he.

                Should be simple then. For some reason it wasn't. To stall a decision he continued asking her questions.

                "Tell me again why you followed me. Try the truth this time."

                "What I told you before _was_ the truth. I saw you. I recognized you. Fuck knows why I decided to follow you, because I had no intention of making contact." She closed her eyes briefly for a second, and then looked up at him again. "Just curiosity", she said simply. "Just that."

                "It's a fucking big universe outta there, Jack. Quite a coincidence that you just happened to spot me. Kinda strange. What's the odds, you think?"

                She snorted. "Maybe not as big as you'd like to think, Riddick", she said, smiling sweetly. "I've seen you twice before."

                The shiv was instantly digging deeper into her throat, forcing her to bend her neck backwards to prevent it cutting through her skin.

                "When?" he growled.

                "Last time was about five or six years ago, I think", she said, coercing the words past the shiv. "On Strega II. You came out a bar in Garta, down by the docking bays. You were with a woman. Black hair. Looked like a hooker. Remember?"

                Vaguely. He remembered being on Strega II, in Garta, at around that time. He didn't remember the hooker. 

                "Did you follow me then?"

                "No. I was on my way out of there. I saw you, I recognized you, and I left. Simple as that. Same as today, only that time I just left."

                He sat back, released the pressure of the shiv from her throat. He felt tired all of a sudden. He chose to ignore it. 

                "And the first time?"

                Jack looked tired as well. "It was around three years after the _Hunter Gratzner_ crash. On Altabar. Does all this matter?"

                It didn't, he guessed. He stood up from the bed and paced the room. The easiest thing in the world would be to kill her and be done with it. For some reason that didn't seem to be the right answer. He didn't know why. And that made him angry beyond comprehension. He was used to act on instinct, and he was used to obey the signals of his body and mind. This time around his instincts betrayed his mind. 

                He wasn't sure how much time had gone by, pondering what to do, when he heard Jack behind him.

                "Riddick? There's someone outside. Over there." She indicated with her head towards the door leading to the balcony. 

                He listened intently, but could hear nothing.

                "I can't hear anything."

                "Well, _I_ can. There's someone just outside."

                He listened again, harder this time. Nothing.

                "What you up to, Jack? Wouldn't be trying to screw me, would you?"

                "Riddick, I'm telling you there's someone out there! With a gauge or something. I just heard it being cocked. Go and check, if you're too fucking stupid to believe me. Only maybe you should hurry!"

                It wasn't impossible that someone was standing outside, gauge in hand. After all, dodging mercs and other shady characters out to snuff him was something of a full time occupation. Someone might have spotted him out on the streets when he had his mind on Jack. It would be stupid of him not to see if the girl was right.

                "OK, I go check." He looked down at her, tied down to his bed. He tried her restraints and found them satisfactory. "Don't go anywhere," he sneered, and moved towards the door.

                The shack he was staying in was designed after old architectural models from Earth. Wooden building with a balcony running its length, and around. Slanted roof. Complete with leaks and creatures no doubt the equivalent of the rats on Earth. Close to the docks. A place that charged per hour, if you wanted it to. A place where you paid people for their indifference and guaranteed amnesia.

                Riddick's kind of place.

                Now he quietly stepped out of the room, into the hallway. Shiv in hand he swiftly entered the neighboring room. Closing the door behind him he paused briefly to assess the interior. A naked man and woman were copulating on the bed. A hooker and her client. The hooker saw him over the shoulders of the john and her eyes grew wide with alarm and fear. Riddick moved the shiv to his lips, and then to his throat, indicating silence, or else... Mutely she watched him move across the floor and open the door to the balcony. He slipped out and stood with his back tight to the wall. The john never noticed. Too caught up on business.

                Jack had been right. Pressed against the wall next to the door to Riddick's room stood a man holding a gun. Looked like he knew how to handle it as well. With his shined eyes Riddick could make out the other man's features through the dark. Unknown features – no one he'd come across before. Looked like a merc. A dead merc. Keeping in shadow, Riddick slowly progressed towards the silent man. What was he waiting for, anyway? Even the most inept merc would have made a move by now. This one was just standing there, waiting. Riddick hadn't even finished that thought when he replaced it with another. _Waiting for what?_

                He crouched down even further, and looked around in the darkness, scanning his surroundings. _There_. Down on the street, opposite side of the pavement. _Another one_. This one also wielding his gauge like he meant business. 

                _Shit._

                He had no doubt there would be more of them. But since when did mercs group together like that? Mercenaries were notoriously greedy bastards, the ones stupid enough to come after him even more so than normal. Point was that they were normally far too credit hungry to be willing to let others poke fingers in the cake. Something big must be going down – he needed to find out what. Not right now though. Now he needed to leave fucking sharpish, and get the hell off the planet. Didn't seem very healthy to hang around.

                He charged forward, quietly and furiously. The merc never knew what hit him – Riddick wasted no time with finesses and simply cut the man's throat from behind. Sloppy work, but now was not exactly the time to be creative. He stepped over the body and opened the door to his room. 

Jack was still on the bed, but wasting no time in trying to free herself from her bindings. In vain, of course – Riddick knew how to tie a knot. Strange, by the way, how Jack first showed up outta nowhere, and then this band of merry mercs decided to have a pop at him. Very strange. 

He strode across the room, and smirked when he saw the look in Jack's eyes when she took in the bloodied shiv. He used it to cut through the belt that held her feet together, and then sliced through the rope that held her hands to the bed frame. Her hands would still be tied in front of her, it would enable her to move but without him losing control over her. Quickly he took her by her masses of hair and used it to drag her on her feet, ignoring her hissed curse from the pain. At the same time as listening out for approaching mercenaries he growled to her:

                "You're coming with me, Jackie girl". 


End file.
